Washed Away
by BloodBlossom88
Summary: One man. They had to catch one man. And yet somehow, that man just ruined the Elric's lives with a simple bridge. Warnings: Character Death, T for slight language.


**This is basically a "hi I'm alive" post. Sorry to the people who actually want Nightfang or Mistake or whatever, but I'll write what I want to write.**

 **I literally just spent time talking to myself to try and muster up the courage to post something that people would like when I thought "Y'know what? No. My account, my stories, my rules." So I've got a bit of confidence right now that I'll probably lose by morning, so I'm going to use it while I can.**

 **I'm trying to change my profile and my life. I'm so unorganized and unmotivated it's painful and this website is causing me lots of stress, so I'm getting it off my chest. I'm going to finish Nightfang and Mistake and my stuff on another account if it kills me before I start on big projects again. Until then, expect oneshots. I hope to get maybe one a month, hopefully. PM me ideas. My fandom list is in my bio, I'm open to suggestions. Please. XD**

 **Anyway! That's my rant for now lol. XD I'm not depressed or pissed just determined now. Don't worry. :P I've had this written out for a while now, but just got around to posting it. Hope you like~**

 **Washed Away**

This wasn't supposed to happen. This shouldn't have happened.

His limbs flailed around him, uselessly trying to gain leverage against the suddenly raging water around him as his mind repeated that one phrase over and over again.

The bridge had been strong, new almost. Polished, even, to make the wood look shiny and clean. A surprisingly deep river streamed peacefully below it. The sun glinted on it's wavering design in a hypnotic pattern, creating yellowish white ripples in the blue liquid, hiding a deep descent. The beautiful water was such a strange contrast to the crazy events of that day. It was sturdy. It held the suit of armor he called a brother. How could it brake to such a smaller weight as himself?

(Vaguely, he berated himself for that comment. He must truly be panicked if he were calling himself small.)

Of course, that was a stupid question. He knew the answer to that quite easily. The man they were chasing, the one the Bastard Colonel sent them out to find. The reason they were out there in the first place and not researching ways to get their bodies back–

Damn bastard, both of them, wasting their time, doing this, damn him it's his fault, _his fault_.

He had gloves on, black transmutation circles stitched into the cheap fabric, similar to the Flame Alchemist's. The man wasn't stupid, that's for sure. It doesn't take a genius to see another person's intellect and awareness. But he wasn't brilliant either– at least, Edward assumed. The blonde was an idiot in his anger and had practically given away his weakness on a silver platter. The man had fought the brothers long and hard, and Edward was practically fighting shirtless his clothes were so torn up. The state alchemist was so riled up, he ripped the clothing off in frustration at some point to chase after that man, yelling profanities. He had to have seen the automail, obviously knew an easy plan. It was _too_ easy for him.

Ed mentally kicked himself for running out onto the wood bridge so impulsively. The man specialized in wood alchemy. He was so stubborn, so stupid, so wrapped up in his pride he didn't think straight. He was such an _idiot_.

His limbs started to slow down in their frantic swim for survival, the water around him getting darker, more faded. His vision blurred, mind muffled. A flurry of bubbles erupted from his mouth, shooting to what must have been upwards. It was hard to tell now. He'd twisted so many times, direction was a mystery. His chest heaved as his body tried to breathe in the cold liquid, pain shooting through his body from his throat and lungs.

All it took was the man touching the wood and he was doomed. The short blonde had thought he was going to transmute a weapon, like what the circles were made to do. He was prepared for an attack, arms up to protect his body, but no. The man— Isaac, his mind supplied weakly, remembering the mission folder he'd read three times that morning —stopped the transmutation at deconstruction. The bridge pretty much exploded beneath his feet. His brother had yelled out, but he was already sinking.

It was cold the farther he went. He honestly didn't expect the river to be so deep. It looked so small from above. How far down had he sunk? Surely too far, with how dark it was. Or were his eyes closed? Not that it mattered much.

Him and Al were too far from civilization anyway, and Al couldn't dive in after him. No one would know he was there in time to do anything unless Isaac suddenly grew a heart. Which, from the shadow that passed over him and away from the water when it was still bright, the man had already made his escape.

He was screwed the moment his feet touched water.

 _'Truth, I'm so sorry, Alphonse...'_

A muffled _splash_ caught his attention, followed by the rush of water around him. Someone jumped in? Who was there? They were alone, weren't they?

For the life of him, Edward couldn't gather the strength to open his eyes— so they _were_ closed —and look.

Arms wrapped around him, pulling him from his resting spot (when had he reached the bottom?) and wrenched him upward. He couldn't move, couldn't feel, he just wanted to sleep...

Suddenly he could hear. There was a thunk of metal on ground as he landed in dirt and mud. Still, his body refused to cooperate, refused to let him look at his savior or call out to his brother. No, instead it let him drift unwillingly into the darkness's embrace.

 **X.X.X.X.X**

When he came to, he was able to breathe again. He knew this as his whole body convulsed in a loud gasp, shocking the person above him away. Water spewed from his mouth, followed by a coughing fit as he gasped for air. People yelled around him, none of the voices registering in his mind as familiar. He lay there for a few moments before even trying to move. Ed cracked his eyes open, greeted by wet dirt, gravel and metal. His head rested on his automail arm uncomfortably.

"-kay? Hey! Can you hear me, kid?"

Spitting water from his mouth, Edward attempted to yell at the man for calling him a kid. Instead, he just sputtered awkwardly. He nodded shakily as an answer. A man, probably in his twenties, sat next to him, brown eyes staring down in worry. He looked to be in baggy clothes, like he was out for a walk. His shoes, which were right below Ed's face, said otherwise. He must have been hiking.

"Oh thank goodness!" another, lighter voice said behind him. A woman, perhaps out with the man in front of him. "We thought you were dead!"

He would have paid attention to their worries, had there not been another thing on his mind.

The man in front of him wasn't wet. He wasn't drenched like he had just dived into a lake to save a drowning kid. Hell, he still had his backpack and jacket on. It surely wasn't the woman that saved him. Was it?

Of course, he certainly knew some strong girls in his life time.

Then another thing entered his brain, jumping in front of his train of thought like the idiot Edward himself was. He scolded himself for not thinking of this _first_. Shooting upwards into a sitting position, scaring the people around him, he choked out, "A-Al?"

"Al?" the girl asked, rubbing small circles on the small of his back. "Was that the one that saved you?"

"H-Huh?"

The man tried to lay him back down, but he refused, instead scanning the area for his brother. "We found you laying next to the pathway, practically dead."

Before he could finish, Edward had already caught sight of the heap of metal with wide, gold eyes. It laid a few feet away, the water still lapping at its large feet. It's silver plates glimmered in the sunlight, each drop of water cascading down the surface sparkling with a frightening sort of beauty. The ground around it was soaking, mounded up in piles as though it had dragged itself along the ground, which was more than likely true. It lay there, unmoving and cold, taunting him.

"You were lying beside a suit of armor, strangely. It looks like whoever was in that pulled you out of the river. It's arms were even still wrapped around you! Is Al the one that saved you? Someone you know? That was really stupid, to save you then leave you covered in a metal arm, still drowning in-!"

"Stop yelling at him! Can't you see he's shaken? Go call an ambulance or something!"

"We're in the middle of the forest. How am I supposed to call anyone?"

"Than go get the car! He could have hypothermia. He needs a hospital!"

Neither of the two noticed the boy crawling away slowly. They didn't notice him drag himself across the path, all four of his limbs suddenly feeling like lead, and to that big mound of wet metal. They didn't pay him any mind, just kept arguing until he flipped the armor onto its back and ripped the chest plate from the top. Still soaking, dripping onto the floor below, Edward stared into the shell of his brother. He pushed his hair back— when had it come out of its braid? —in a vain attempt to keep any water from dipping onto that vital part of the armor, the one weak point so vulnerable to the liquid, and so valuable to the brothers. But why bother? It didn't matter. He already knew what he'd find when he looked in.

Nothing marked the back of the armor. His mark, _his_ _blood_ , was completely gone. Cleaned off, probably mixed into the river now.

It was washed away, just like the soul of Alphonse.

His shoulders shook. The two hikers were behind him, but he didn't pay them any mind. He didn't notice the tears joining the drops of water running down his cheeks. Not until a sob ripped itself from his mouth.

Salty water pooled up one drop at a time where that transmutation circle used to be. Bowing his head, Edward screamed for his little brother.

 **Heheheheheh cheesy title I know I couldn't think of anything else. Usually hate it when the title is actually in the story. Oh well I'm tired.**


End file.
